


and how should we begin?

by SOMNlARl



Series: Hipster College Babies: Cullrian Edition [1]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hipster babies, Implied past abusive relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Maybe a little bit of angst eventually, Modern Era, That AU where they're college students with crappy jobs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-19
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Two shots. Vanilla syrup. Caramel syrup. Toffee syrup. Whipped cream. A caramel and chocolate drizzle. Oh, and skim milk. Because of course there would be skim milk in this ridiculous concoction. </i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Order up for…” Dorian squints at the cup, trying to decipher Evelyn’s handwriting - she really needs to stop coming into work hungover. “Cullen?”  </i></p><p> </p><p> </p><p>An AU in which all of the Inquisition are college students, there are still elves and qunari, Dorian is in a houseshare with most of them and the world is a mix of ours and Thedas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> If you like it please let me know! :)
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger

Dorian stares forlornly out at the packed cafe, sighing as the door opens with another rush of frigid air, another group of students spilling across the threshold. 

Scowling, he turns back to the bar and shoves another jug of milk in to steam with a bit more violence than he knows is absolutely necessary. 

“I hate the lunch rush,” he hisses at no one in particular. And he does. He hates the job too but it’s better than nothing and Josephine was accommodating enough to give him something that worked with his schedule; it’s not like he’d had any better offers. 

“Could be worse,” Sera drawls as she breezes past him, punching him lightly on the arm as she hands over her last order. 

“A drip coffee?” He demands, rolling his eyes. She always got the easy jobs. “You get a drip coffee and I get… this?” He throws up his hands exasperatedly, gesturing at the seemingly endless array of cups in front of him. 

“Can’t help it. Josie’s got an eye for pretty little girls, yeah?” She shoves an errant strand of hair back behind one long ear and winks at him, waggling an eyebrow suggestively. 

“I do not want to think about you and Josephine, Sera. I’ve heard enough out of the two of you for a lifetime back at the house.”

Dorian grabs the next order sheet, glances at it and groans. He shoves it into Sera’s hand. “Here. Look at this shit. I’ll bet you ten royals that a girl in a short skirt, bare legs and furry boots named Madison ordered this.” 

Sera pulls a face but her eyes light up. That should worry him more than it does. “I’ll take that bet, yeah? Now shut it and get back to work.”

Two shots. Vanilla syrup. Caramel syrup. Toffee syrup. Whipped cream. A caramel and chocolate drizzle. Oh, and skim milk. Because of course there would be skim milk in this ridiculous concoction. 

“Order up for…” Dorian squints at the cup, trying to decipher Evelyn’s handwriting - she really needs to stop coming into work hungover. “Cullen?” 

No, that can’t possibly be right. That’s not a girl’s name and no matter which way he looks at the scribbled letters the cup definitely doesn’t say Madison. Shit, he’s going to owe Sera money now. 

No one’s approaching so he yells over the din of the cafe. “Cullen? Cullen who ordered a drink that might as well be liquid candy? Cullen who’s going to drink himself into a diabetic coma this afternoon?” 

That does it. Dorian knew it would - a little public humiliation always jerks the customers out of their trances. A blond man in leather boots and too many layers of plaid and chunky sweater and oversized coat slinks up to the counter, his face more embarrassed blush than actual expression, pink to the tips of his ears. 

“Cullen, I presume?” Dorian smirks as Cullen takes the drink from him, refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Thanks,” Cullen mumbles as he turns to walk out the door, squeezing through a group of giggling, pointing girls on his way through the cafe. 

Dorian can’t help but stare - Cullen, poor taste in coffee aside, is _gorgeous_. All light brown eyes - almost gold really - curls like Adonis and clearly fit even under all of his layers of clothes. He can hear Sera cackling, coming closer with each passing step. He grumbles and pulls a tenner out of his pocket which she snatches up with a quick hand. 

“I’m on my fifteen and… you get the bar! Next up is… oooh, a triple caramel latte with extra caramel, chocolate and whip. Have fun with that,” he says, watching with satisfaction as the pleased look on her face crumples to one of dismay.

* * *

In the back Dorian slips his coat on, then the fingerless gloves he’s stashed in the pockets and dashes outside, lighting a cigarette as soon as he’s fully out the door. Josephine might still threaten to kill him for smoking but her threats are empty once he’s not on her property anymore. 

He’s not expecting - although he might be hoping - to run right into Cullen but he does anyway, the blush on Cullen’s face deepening even further as he stumbles against the blond’s shoulder. 

Dorian takes a quick drag, letting the smoke curl back out through his lips, hanging and forming crystals in the freezing winter air. 

He raises an eyebrow questioningly, passing the cigarette towards Cullen who eyes it suspiciously before he takes it, raising it to his mouth. Cullen coughs, eyes watering as he inhales. 

“Are you a student?” Dorian asks, suddenly actually curious. 

“Yeah…” Cullen looks down at the ground. “English. Creative writing. Mostly poetry, actually." Dorian's not sure how Cullen manages but somehow he turns an even deeper shade of red. "Music minor. You?”

“Biochemistry. But strangely enough, a music minor. I've never seen you in the practice rooms. Guitar. Do you play?” Dorian futzes with the buttons on his coat. 

“I sing, actually. I know, I know. Department full of girls, why they took pity on me I’ll never understand.” Cullen takes another drag, letting it out slowly this time. 

“I hope I didn’t embarrass you in there,” Dorian says as he takes another deep drag, huffing out a few quick rings of smoke. 

“No,” Cullen clears his throat, bringing a fist to his mouth. “I’m used to it. Being a guy with a sweet tooth… it’s not exactly cool, you know?” 

Dorian leans back against the wall, a careful, practiced eye skimming over the man before him. Suddenly he leans forward, thumb lightly scraping against the scar splitting Cullen’s lip. He raises it to his mouth, licking at the bit of whipped cream as he pulls away. 

_Sweet_. In the best possible way. 

“Maybe, _Cullen_ ,” he purrs, breathing out another lungful of smoke. “Maybe you should just come around to see me more often.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, if you like it please comment. :)
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger

Cullen freezes and turns to leave, stuttering out a quick excuse but Dorian catches the strap of his messenger bag and pulls him backwards. 

“Hey! What are you…” Cullen protests feebly. 

Dorian grabs at his neck, finding exactly what he was looking for - Cullen’s security badge - hanging from a chain tucked beneath his collar. “Ah, exactly what I needed! Cullen S. Rutherford… God, that almost sounds… Fereldan. And extremely blond. What does the ‘S’ stand for, I wonder?” 

“Guilty as charged, I guess,” Cullen chuckles as he rakes a hand through his hair. 

“What on earth are you doing in Val Royeaux?”

“Um. I just transferred actually, from Denerim.”

“Why?” 

“Do you always have this many questions?” Cullen asks in mock annoyance, a grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. 

“Do you always refuse to answer simple questions?” 

“Um. No. No. I don’t. It’s just… personal, okay?” Cullen snaps, all traces of joking gone. He sighs, face softening. “Sorry, that was shitty of me. It was just… relationship stuff. It didn’t end well. You know how it is.”

“Yes,” Dorian says though he doesn’t, not really. Suddenly he’s aware of just how very close they are. Dorian realizes his hip is pressed against Cullen’s side and Cullen’s staring at him, wide-eyed. He drops his hold on Cullen’s bag, stepping back as he takes another drag, letting the smoke slip from between his lips. “I suppose so.”

Dorian pushes the cigarette towards Cullen again who shakes his head softly, hands jammed deep in his pockets. 

“You do have a phone, I presume?” Cullen nods, reaching into his back pocket. Dorian snatches it from him, typing quickly. 

“There. Excellent.” Cullen takes it back and stares at the screen for a moment, scrolling down before looking quizzically at Dorian, blinking slowly. 

“Do you always put yourself in as ‘rakishly handsome Tevinter with exquisite fashion sense?’”

“Why not? Don’t tell me you disagree?” 

“Uhh… No. I suppose not.” Cullen’s pink again, the color spreading down his neck, and slouching against the wall of the cafe. Dorian presses his phone into Cullen’s hands. “Now you,” Dorian whispers. “And you’d better not give me a fake number. Now that I know you’re in my department I can track you down whenever I want. This is just a formality.” 

Cullen glares at him half-heartedly, typing quickly, and presses the phone back into Dorian’s waiting hands.

“Well. Now that I have what I need to find you I suppose I should give you a bit of extra information. 42 Rue de Forêt. Do drop by sometime, hmmm? One of my obnoxious housemates might answer the door but don’t let them frighten you off. Really, they’re _mostly harmless_ \- just mind the redhead.”

He drops the end of his cigarette on the ground, grinding the heel of his boot into it, then turns to head back into the warmth of the cafe. 

“You... You, uh, never told me your name,” Cullen calls from behind him. 

“Dorian,” he says, grinning as he looks over his shoulder, pulling his coat tighter against the wind. “Dorian Pavus.”

* * *

“So. Tell me everything.” Evelyn’s at his elbow the instant he walks in the house. 

“What are you on about?” He sniffs, dropping layer upon layer of coat, scarf, hat and gloves on the floor much to Evelyn’s dismay who swoops behind him, grumbling as she picks up after him. 

“The closet is right fucking there, Dorian. It’d take you like… ten seconds to put your stuff away?”

“But if I just leave them on the floor they magically make it into the closet anyway. Oww!” He rubs at his arm where she smacked him. “Besides, that’s what you get for looking for gossip.”

“ _Dorian_. Spill.” 

“Spill what? There’s nothing to talk about!” He collapses on the couch, Evelyn following close behind him. “Whose turn is it to make dinner tonight? I’m starving.” He grabs for the bottle of beer sitting on the coffee table but Evelyn snatches it away from him. 

“Oi, hands off! That’s mine, you get your own. And it’s Bull’s turn. I think.” She drains the bottle in one long drink, burps and grins wickedly at him. 

He wrinkles his nose, pushing her away. “You’re revolting. And ugh, Bull. I’m still not entirely recovered from his last turn in the kitchen.”

She shrugs. “We could go out? Go to the pub? I could use a drink.”

“When can’t you use a drink?” He gibes playfully. “Come on! We’ll go out and you can cry at me about that artist again.”

* * *

Dorian’s a few drinks and a plateful of dreadful chips in when Evelyn leans across the table, propping herself up on nobby elbows. 

“So are you going to tell me about it now?”

“Ev, what are you on about? It? Specificity is helpful if you’re looking for information.” He drinks the last of his beer and looks around for the waitress. 

“You and Mr. Handsome, of course! I didn’t get to talk to you after your break. You finally talked to him.” She’s slurring as she blurts out the words. No more drinks for her, he thinks, or he’ll have to carry her back to the house. 

“What do you mean, finally? I’ve never ever seen him before today.” He pinches at the bridge of his nose. Evelyn is so very trying when she's like this which lately is, unfortunately, all the time.

“Bullshit you haven’t! He’s been in every day the last two weeks, always staring at you like a lost puppy.” As she leans over further her elbows slip off the table and Evelyn nearly lands face first in her untouched plate. 

He raises an eyebrow and grabs her mug, holding it close as she protests. “Hush, you’re too drunk already. I’m doing you a favor.” He takes a drink, thinking back over the last few weeks. He swears he would have remembered Cullen if he’d been in before but it’s not like he really pays that much attention at work; he could do his job in his sleep. “Eat, will you? You’re opening tomorrow and I do not want to get roped in to covering for you. I need my beauty sleep.” 

“Going to see Blondie?” She leers before turning her attention to her pie. 

“Shut. Up. Evelyn” 

The waitress finally comes by and he pays before draining the last of his stolen beer. “You ready?”

They walk - or rather, he walks. Evelyn drapes her arm across his shoulder and stumbles against him - and when they get back to the house he picks her up, slinging her over his shoulder, as he climbs the stairs. She’s asleep before they make it up to the landing and he carries her into her room, setting her gently down on the bed. He leaves a cup of water and a couple of pills on the small table next to her - at least when she’s awake in the morning, cursing his and every other name she can remember he can point to that and say _he tried_.

* * *

Back in his room he starts to read over his notes for tomorrow’s lab but can’t focus. He fingers his phone, starting message after message to Cullen. 

_Hey. *winking face*_

Ugh, no. 

_So I hear you’ve been watching me. I always wanted a cute stalker._

Oh my GOD. 

_“You’re hot. I’m hot. Come over?”_

Oh for fuck’s sake. No. 

He tosses his phone aside in disgust and tries to sleep. He stares at the ceiling instead, painfully hard and unable to rid a certain blond from his thoughts. Fuck. He tries to ignore it, tries to think about his classes, work, anything else but finally gives in, stroking himself off - _that hair, those eyes, that amazing fucking scar, the way that body must look under all of those fucking unnecessary layers_ \- until he spills over with a moan muffled against his pillow. Exhausted now, he grumbles as he gets up and heads down the hall to the bathroom to clean himself up before he stumbles back to bed and falls into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it please let me know! 
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger - come play!

“I was starting to think you weren’t going to show,” Dorian says as he hands over Cullen’s coffee with a smirk. “You’ve kept me waiting my whole shift, I’ve been dreadfully bored.” 

“Um. I’m sorry? I didn’t realize you were waiting for me?” Cullen takes a drink, wincing as the hot liquid hits the back of his throat. He shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, staring back at Dorian, his head slightly cocked to one side. 

Dorian laughs and rolls his eyes. “I did tell you to come by sometime. Silly me, I thought you looked like you could take direction.”

“You said sometime. That could be any day, any time,” Cullen argues half-heartedly with the barest hint of a grin pulling at his lips. 

“You have been here every single day for the past few weeks at the same time. You are a creature of habit. So, for you, sometime should have been your usual time. And yet today you break that habit… and I’m rather curious as to why.” 

Cullen shrugs, taking another sip - carefully this time - and opens his mouth to reply, shutting it again before he can speak.

“Owww! Sera, what the fuck?” Dorian rubs at the back of his head which has just said an unpleasant hello to a very pointy elbow. 

“You’ve only got ten more minutes, yeah? Go on, get on with it! I’m not cleaning up your mess!” Sera elbows him again, this time in the back of the ribs for good measure. 

“I should probably get back to work… I’d rather not get assaulted by an elf.” Sera sticks her tongue out at that, sweeping away towards the registers. Dorian turns back to the bar then looks up at Cullen. “Ten minutes?”

* * *

It’s closer to half an hour later when Dorian finally gets clocked out having been roped into helping Evelyn clean up in the back and he’s nearly out the front door when he hears a familiar “hey” from a few feet behind him. Cullen has somehow managed to get a table all to himself, the second chair piled high with his coat and scarf, and is pointedly ignoring all of the glares in his direction from standing patrons. He closes his laptop with a small smile, stands and grabs at his coat, gesturing awkwardly from Dorian to the chair. 

“Such a gentleman,” Dorian purrs, “but my boss really doesn’t like it when we hang out after our shifts. And while Josephine may look sweet let’s just say you do not want to get on her bad side.”

“I… ah. Of course. Where do you want to go? I’d offer up my room but my roommate… has a girl.” Cullen bites at his bottom lip and rubs his fist against his forehead. “I’m… locked out for a while. You know.” 

Dorian laughs again, a beautifully rich, throaty sound that Cullen thinks he could listen to for hours. “Oh, poor you! I do, sadly. I have a housemate who’s rather fond of bringing home multiple waitresses. Of course, we’ve all just gotten used to it by now but the first few weeks?” He shudders, Bull’s exploits had been rather… disturbing, to say the least, at first. “Why don’t we go back to my place? You’re new here, you could probably stand to meet someone besides your horrible roommate.”

“Thom’s really not that bad,” Cullen laughs, “but I see your point. And we probably shouldn’t risk pissing off your boss.” 

“I hope you don’t mind a bit of a walk. It’s just about a mile from here.” 

“Actually I have my car…” Cullen says as he shoves his laptop in his bag and pulls on his coat, leaving it open despite the cold wind seeping in through the partially open door. 

“Oh my god please tell me it has heat. Please.”

* * *

“So this is where you live?” Cullen asks, locking the car doors behind them. “It’s huge!” 

“Well, there are seven of us living here… permanently, I mean. There are a few others who might as well live here but technically don’t.”Dorian hurries up the front steps to the door, swearing under his breath as he searches his pockets for his keys. Before he can find them the door swings open and the largest man… no, Qunari… that Cullen has ever seen - not that he’s seen many Qunari - steps into and takes up the entire door frame. 

“Oh, it’s just you, I thought maybe it was Katrina,” the Qunari rumbles disinterestedly before his eye lights on Cullen. “Wait, who’s this?”

“A friend, Bull. Just a friend,” Dorian says shortly, pushing past his bulk into the house and beckoning for Cullen to follow. Just as Cullen is about to duck under Bull’s arm the Qunari lowers it and fixes him with a suspicious stare, trapping him outside on the porch. 

“A friend, huh?”

“Um. Yes. I’m Cullen? Dorian and I are… in the same department.” 

“Bull, for fuck’s sake!” Dorian calls from inside. “Let him in, you don’t always have to play bouncer.”

Bull chuckles and raises him arm again, letting Cullen through. “You be good to our ‘vint, alright? Because if you aren’t I might just kick the shit out of you myself.” 

“Bull!” Dorian appears suddenly, grabbing Cullen by the elbow. “Sorry about him, he’s a bit of a… mother hen. You hungry?” He doesn’t wait for Cullen’s nod. “I’m thinking… pho?” 

"Um, sure. Pho." Cullen says. He has no idea what pho is but he's not about to argue, not with Dorian. Not when he is in Dorian's house, so close to him he could almost reach out and touch his hair. So close he could almost...

"Hey. You okay?" 

"Yeah. Sorry. What did you say?"

"Movie? While we wait for the food?"

Cullen nods and follows Dorian into the living room, taking a seat on the couch, curling up against the armrest across from Dorian who's flipping through channel after channel. He stops at a massive explosion, laughing delightedly as a skyscraper bursts into flame and crumbles into ash. 

"Really? You? You like big, dumb action movies?" Cullen teases. 

"I do," Dorian says as he leans back across the couch until his head is lying on Cullen's thigh. Without a second thought Cullen finds his hand snaking lightly through Dorian's hair and he smiles as he turns back to the screen.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like it please let me know! Comments are love. <3
> 
> tumblr: xhermionedanger - come play with me!

“Oh my _god_ ,” Cullen mumbles through a mouthful of noodles. “Where the hell has this stuff been all my life?”

“Fucking amazing, right?” Dorian says with a grin. “You seriously don’t have pho in Fereldan? The rumors are officially true: You _are_ all barbarians!” 

Cullen snorts back a laugh. “We’re not that bad.” He sets his bowl on the floor. “Besides, maybe I just didn’t know about it. I, uh, didn’t really do that much back in Denerim. I was pretty… boring, I guess.”

“You? Boring? Perish the thought.” Somehow the space surrounding them has tilted off-balance, heavy now where it had been light and Dorian tries to right it with a playful tone, a light touch of his hand on Cullen’s forearm. 

“I’m serious.” Cullen frowns, looking down at Dorian’s hand on his arm but he doesn’t move away. “And Sa…” he cuts the name short with a slight shake of his head. “My ex, I mean. He didn’t really like anything foreign or unexpected. He liked having things his own way, everything just so.” 

Dorian hums, looking for the right words but there’s something in Cullen’s voice, a sort of strangled pain, that keeps him silent. “You want a drink? I think I know where my roommate’s hiding her stash.”

“Um. Isn’t breaking into your roommate’s booze frowned upon? Thom would beat the shit out of me if I touched his.”

“Trust me when I say that separating Evelyn from her wine is a very good thing,” Dorian laughs as he gets to his feet. “A public service, really. They ought to give us a medal for this.”

Dorian disappears down the hall and Cullen waits at least ten suspenseful minutes until a loud thud rouses him from his thoughts. He can’t believe he almost told Dorian all about Sam. Dorian whose house he is sitting in. Dorian who is so hot he can hardly stand it. Dorian who is paying attention to him. Him, of all people. _Rutherford, you idiot_ he thinks to himself. _Can’t you ever learn to just shut the fuck up_?

“Dorian?” He calls tentatively, walking in the direction of the noise. “Everything okay?”

“Fabulous. She just went to slightly more effort in creating a hiding place this time. Give me a hand? It’s the last door on the right.” There’s another noise, like the scraping of chair legs across old wood and then a stream of muffled swearing. 

He walks in to find Dorian surrounded by cardboard boxes, standing on his toes on a rickety-looking old chair, peering into a closet, clinging to a high shelf for balance. 

“Finally! Come over here - I need you to grab these bottles…” Dorian makes a little noise of surprise as his fingers slip off the shelf and he loses his balance, twisting in mid-air as he tries but fails to right himself on the chair. 

Dorian doesn’t hit the ground, even though he’s expecting it, bracing for the fall. He’s caught instead - bottles and all - by unexpectedly strong arms, one behind his back and the other under his knees. And he doesn’t pull away to stand up, not yet. 

“My knight in shining…” Dorian smiles and looks up at Cullen. “Well, not armor. What on earth are you wearing? Are those _skinny jeans_?” 

“Um. No. I mean, maybe? Everything else was in the wash.” He can feel himself blushing, knows he must be pink from his hairline all the way down his neck but he can’t bring himself to care. “And you’re welcome, by the way.” He helps Dorian to the ground, trying to mask the way he can feel his hands shaking. 

“Ugh, a hipster.” Dorian groans in mock disgust. “Save me from barbaric, Fereldan, hipster poets.” 

Cullen turns to leave the room and nearly as soon as he crosses the threshold he runs right into... someone he does not recognize; he looks up to find a beautiful but severe-looking woman, her head shaved, eyes bright and probing. She looks right over him, fixing Dorian with a knowing look. 

“I suppose I should have known that you were the one helping yourself to Evelyn’s wine, my dear. Did you know she actually had the nerve to blame me? Like I would drink any of the swill she’s become accustomed to.” 

“Um. We’re sorry?” Cullen says, his voice coming out more like a squeak. Embarrassed, he clears his throat and tries again. “I… Uh. We shouldn’t have… We won’t do it again?”

The woman raises an eyebrow, looking at Cullen for the first time. “Dorian darling, who is your strangely incoherent friend?”

“Hush, Vivienne. You’re frightening him.” Dorian places a hand at the small of Cullen’s back, “Come on, Cullen. I’ll go find a corkscrew, yeah? Meet you back in the living room?”

* * *

Dorian returns with an opened bottle and two tall, plastic cups. He shrugs apologetically. “Everything else was dirty.” He pours what looks like to Cullen like half the bottle and passes it over to him. 

Cullen sniffs suspiciously before taking a tentative sip. “This isn’t that bad! From what your other roommate… Vivienne, is that her name? From what she said I was expecting it to corrode my insides on the way down. 

“Oh, Viv?” Dorian fills his own cup and settles next to Cullen, leaning heavily up against his shoulder. “She just likes to feel superior to the rest of us, don’t mind her.” 

It feels good, Cullen thinks. This closeness, the warmth of another body next to him. Something he hadn’t had in months, nearly a year. Far longer than he’d been in Val Royeaux, even before he’d broken up with Sam. He’d held on too long, he knew; he should have left months before he actually did but he kept waiting. Kept hoping that the Sam he knew would come back - would wake up - would stop spending every night in a drug-addled stupor. He’d been foolish. 

“You’re lost in thought again.” Dorian nudges him, eyes soft, almost affectionate. 

“Oh, right. Sorry. I’m just… tired, I guess.” Cullen knows that he’s never been a good liar and suspects this one falls as flat as most but if Dorian suspects anything he’s discreet enough to keep that knowledge from showing on his face. 

“Well, drink up then! We’ve still got another bottle to get through before Ev gets home… and we need to think of some way to destroy the evidence.” Dorian grabs the remote as he takes another drink, flipping through the channels again. 

“Wait, go back!”

“ _The Princess Bride_?” Dorian asks in disbelief. Cullen nods, taking sip after sip of wine to avoid having to answer. 

“As you wish.”


End file.
